


Sic Transit Gloria (Piratarum)

by ShahbanouScheherazade



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShahbanouScheherazade/pseuds/ShahbanouScheherazade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel Defoe wrote a comprehensive history of pirates, but why no mention of Jack Sparrow, Hector Barbossa, or Edward Teague? Perhaps it's all about where you get your information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sic Transit Gloria (Piratarum)

**Author's Note:**

> To My Readers: Thank you so much for your kudos and comments. It means a lot to me when I hear your feedback, and I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate your support!
> 
> I do not own any part of Pirates of the Caribbean.

"Some old cove's on the lookout for you," Giselle remarked. She had spotted Jack Sparrow not ten minutes after he set foot in Tortuga and had hastened to bring him the news. He knitted his brows and gave her a sidelong, worried glance.

"Anyone I know, darlin'?" he asked. "Anyone _you_ know? Did he mention anything about a debt? Or a goat? Sea turtles? A set of wooden teeth and a missing coronet?"

"Don't recall none o' that," she answered, thinking a bit. "Odd lookin' gent 'e was, a bit like a merchant, only 'e weren't one. Beaky nose, no beard, and a bleedin' great wig 'alfway down 'is back." Jack looked mystified.

"And 'e didn't seem to be enjoyin' 'imself," she added. "Quite scowly, if you ask me."

"Scowly? Around you, love?" Jack raised his eyebrows, swaying on his heels a bit from the morning's liquid breakfast. "Perhaps the old rogue's got" – he curled his upper lip to enunciate – "cataracts." Giselle's blue eyes grew wide with alarm at the unfamiliar word.

"Bloody 'ell! If 'e gave 'em to me, I'll make 'im rue the day!" she exclaimed. Jack stole an incredulous look at her and decided she was in earnest. He managed a concerned expression and sympathetic nod before proceeding.

"Has he got a name, love?" he asked.

"Well, 'e didn't want to own up to one, did 'e?" Giselle replied with a smirk. "If you ask me-"

But she was prevented from revealing her considered opinion, for at that moment, Jack snatched her best silk shawl from her shoulders and proceeded to wrap himself in it, concealing most of his face. He had heard enough to convince him that the man was trouble.

"Must be off, darlin'," he said, speaking through the shawl. "I've just remembered –"

"Why, 'ere 'e is!" cried Giselle excitedly, as a heavy hand fell upon Jack's shoulder.

"Captain Sparrow! I have got you at last!" someone exclaimed from behind his back.

Jack froze, wide-eyed. The stranger's voice was forceful and clearly its owner knew he had found the object of his search; but now the voice continued in more jovial tones. "I am so very pleased to make your acquaintance! I hope you'll do me the honour of letting me stand you to, to – well, whatever it is you drink, sir!"

Jack spun about to face the man. "And to whom, may I ask, do I owe me thanks?" he enquired, thinking that the day was suddenly looking quite promising.

"Daniel Defoe, at your service, sir," replied the man. "And most anxious indeed to speak to you about a little enterprise I've undertaken."

"An enterprise, eh? Lookin' for a partner, I warrant?" Jack smiled broadly as the two men strolled into The Faithful Bride.

"Ah . . . perhaps I should explain first," answered Defoe. He ordered two bottles of rum, and followed Jack to a table. Once they had taken their seats and filled their tankards, Defoe took up his story.

"You see," he began, "I have taken to making my living with my pen, to settle my rather substantial debts. Although I have been successful in trade and in other endeavours, my fortunes are now at their lowest ebb, and I am currently forced to evade my creditors - hence my reluctance to leave a name with your friend."

This was not an auspicious beginning – in fact, surely Mr Gibbs had pronounced it bad luck to drink with debtors other than one's self – and Jack began to look about for an excuse to cut their conversation short. However, Defoe had topped off both tankards and waved to the barman to bring another bottle. Deciding against letting haste make waste, Jack settled back to listen.

"I have tasted the fruits of financial success through the publication of some books and pamphets I have written," Defoe continued, "and now I have undertaken the greatest work of my career – a book that will not only restore my fortunes, but will surely confer immortality on the illustrious names whose exploits its pages will enumerate." Jack warmed at the mention of immortality, wondering what Defoe was offering him.

Defoe took a quick swig from his tankard and added, "I speak of none other than the Brethren – the pirates! Buccaneers! Their exploits are the greatest public fascination of our time!" He leaned forward and fixed his piercing, rather beady eyes upon Jack.

"In short, Captain Sparrow," he said, "I intend to author a history of the pirates that will be universally acclaimed. And t'is history, my friend, that gives birth to legends." He sat back, waiting for Jack's response.

Jack considered for a moment, then the corners of his mouth eased into a pleasant smile. "I quite like the sound of that," he murmured, thinking of a world where the exploits and adventures of the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow were marvelled at by one and all. "So who's to be in your book? And how do you know all their exploits?" he asked.

"For some time," Defoe responded, "I have been engaged in tracking down the most infamous pirates and personally interviewing them; I mean to present the most accurate and complete account possible, and I can't do better than talk to my subjects in person. As to which pirates, I'm sure you must have an inkling.'

"Blackbeard?" Jack hazarded.

"Oh, naturally; and Stede Bonnet, and Mary Reade, and Calico Jack," Defoe offered.

"And Henry Morgan? And what about Henry Avery? Now there's a tale worth tellin'," Jack continued.

"Morgan, yes; but I'm having some difficulty locating Avery," said Defoe. "I'm also told there's a pirate by the name of Barbossa who is the scourge of the Caribbean – I suppose I'll need to include him," he added, prompting an instant response from his companion.

"What – who? Barbossa?" Jack assumed a dismissive air. "Never heard of him – no, wait! I know who you mean. The one with the monkey. Don't think so, mate. He's not the sort you're lookin' for. Not even really a captain y'know; never actually had his own ship. I'd call him more of a . . . a chartman, savvy?" Defoe looked perplexed for a moment, but finally nodded in agreement.

"Well, then, I don't suppose I want to bore my readers with charts," he said, accepting Jack's advice with a quick smile. "That leaves only one more interview I need, and I feel quite fortunate to have found you!"

Jack acknowledged the compliment with a glittering smile and appreciative nod.

"What sort of a history could I pen without including the greatest pirate of all?" Defoe continued.

Jack's smile broadened to a grin as he replied, "Couldn't agree with you more, mate."

"One whose storied exploits will be the talk of all England; the man whose astonishing adventures have set an impossibly high bar for all others! Who better deserves to be immortalised in my work – "

"Who indeed," agreed Jack.

" – than Edward Teague?" Defoe proclaimed.

"Edward–?" Jack fixed his friend with a blank, dark-eyed stare that spoke of disbelief and consternation in equal measures.

"Of course!" Defoe explained. "The Keeper of the Code, the Pirate Lord of Madagascar! I was told you could arrange for me to see him."

Although Jack's thoughts were racing quickly, he managed a smile of polite concern. "Well, I can arrange it, of course; but I don't reckon you'll be too pleased when all's said and done." Before Defoe could question him, Jack stood up, filled his flask from the half-empty bottle, and motioned to Defoe to follow him. They departed the tavern for Tortuga's docks.

Jack led the aspiring author along the outermost cargo dock, until they came upon a supine figure sleeping amongst the barrels. Mr Gibbs was snoring peacefully, an empty bottle cradled lovingly in his arms. Jack put his hands on his hips and glanced at Defoe.

 _"This_ is Captain Edward Teague?" Defoe was incredulous.

Jack nodded. "The one and only," he assured the amazed writer. "In all his glory."

Defoe sighed heavily.

"A bit the worse for drink these days," Jack went on breezily, "Oh, an' he ain't the Keeper of the Code – because we haven't got a Code." He leaned across Mr Gibbs and pulled a set of papers from his pocket. "Here's what you're thinkin' of. It's the Articles of Piracy – we all sign 'em. But there's no 'code'; _ergo_ no Keeper, savvy? No worries, though. You've only to put these papers in your book, an' Bob's yer uncle."

Defoe looked crestfallen, but he accepted the papers from Jack. "No Code?" he asked.

"No Code," replied Jack, with a bright smile. "Bad luck, mate."

Defoe took his leave, but Jack lingered on the dock, watching the older man walk away into the fading glow of a rosy sunset.

"Anyway," he said at last, to no one in particular, "they're more like guidelines."


End file.
